Promises
by Karuka Ikashi
Summary: Young America goes to England for comfort, but discovers him crying for some reason. It seems the older nation might need some comforting instead...Done for the kink meme. Pure fluff with a dash of angst.


**Promises**

Thunder cracked outside the window of the large house as small feet scurried down the hall in fright. America was panting by the time he reached the door of his guardian's room. He was so glad England was staying over tonight. Nights with storms like these were the worse time to be alone, and the small nation wanted nothing more than to be held in the arms of his big brother, to hear his soothing voice promise that everything would be okay and that he didn't have to worry. Then he would let him sleep in his bed or take him back to his own and stay there until the storm had passed. No matter what, England would always make him feel better with his confidence and warmth.

But when America opened the door, England was not asleep in his bed as he had expected. Instead, when the young boy glanced in, he saw the older nation sitting on one side of the mattress, turned away from him. The man didn't seem to hear the door crack open as he hung his head down, leaning forward so his shoulders were slumped. It almost looked like he had fallen asleep sitting up. America cocked his head to the side and stared at him curiously, taking small cautious steps into the room.

"Iggy?"

The light blonde flinched and turned his head to glance over his shoulder. Upon seeing the boy, he wiped his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. America came up to him and leaned on the other side of the bed, still staring.

"A-america…what are you doing up?" England croaked.

The small nation's eyes widened when he heard the man's voice. This wasn't the strong, protective England that he knew. He sounded weak, and his eyes looked so tired. Hadn't his big brother been able to sleep at all?

"I was scared," America told him. "I don't like being alone during thunderstorms…and you were here, so I thought maybe - we can sleep together?"

The older nation was quiet. He wouldn't look at the boy; instead, he just stared down at his own feet. The silence that hung in the air was almost as good as a refusal. When he didn't answer right away, America became a bit worried and climbed up on the bed. Pulling on England's sleeve, he started pleading.

"It's okay, right? Pleeease, Iggy! I don't wanna be alone. I wanna stay with you!"

For some reason, England shuddered beside him and America drew back suddenly. Was that-? It couldn't be…a sob? There was a sniffle that the boy was sure he had heard this time. His big brother was crying!

"Iggy, what's the matter?"

England wiped his eyes embarrassedly, and tried to collect himself before slowly turning around.

"It's nothing. You can sleep here if you like, America. I don't mind."

He forced a smile and tried to keep his voice even, but the boy saw the tears still glistening in the corners of his eyes and wasn't fooled.

"Why're you crying?" he asked worriedly, scooting close to his guardian again.

"I'm not," England lied.

"You are! Are you afraid of the storm too? Or maybe…Did you have a bad dream?"

The tears grew heavier in the Briton's eyes and he muttered under his breath as they flowed freely down his face in front of the boy. He fumbled around his night table for a handkerchief, but couldn't find one. Just as he was about to smear the tears across his face again though, one appeared, offered by a small hand.

"Don't cry, please," America said in a tiny voice. "When I see you cry, it makes me really sad."

England took the handkerchief hesitantly as he watched his charge's eyes water up to match his own. He didn't want to see this boy cry. It pulled at his own heartstrings and cracked through the tough shell that had already been broken down for the night. How could he tell him the true reason why he was crying?

"You don't have to worry about me," he told him. "You're right - it was just a bad dream. But it's over now, so I'm fine, you see? So let's go to bed."

He pulled back the covers and patted the spot next to him, inviting America in. The child didn't budge right away, though. Instead, he looked at his brother curiously.

"What kind of dream was it?"

He couldn't imagine anything that could make a person as brave as England cry. It must have been something really scary. Maybe he shouldn't have asked. What if hearing about it frightened him too? He needn't have worried, though, because England was stubborn to spill his feelings that easily.

"It's not important. I'd much rather forget it than mention it to you," he said. "Now then, if you don't mind-"

The man gasped as small arms suddenly threw themselves around him, barely meeting on the other side of his waist. America buried his head into his side, wiping his tears on England's nightshirt as he clung onto his guardian tightly. Still taken aback, it took the man a moment to respond. He slowly placed his hands on America's shoulders and finally hugged the little nation back.

"Don't be sad," America squeaked. "We're together, so-"

Thunder clapped. America gripped England tighter and shook slightly. The other man, in turn, scooped the boy up and placed him on his lap, wrapping his arms around him protectively as the small blonde lay his head down on his chest.

"Shh, yes. We're together," England replied. "And that's the way we'll always be."

"You promise?"

"I do."

He held America closer to him. They stayed like that for a moment, the older nation rocking the younger until both their tears were dry. Then, when he could hear his little brother's breathing grow quieter with sleep, he lay the boy down on the bed and tucked him in gently. America rolled to his side and reached out for England, eyes still closed. The British man smiled and slipped beneath the covers next to him, letting America grip his shirt. The small fists loosened and instead wrapped themselves around England's arm, cuddling it like a teddy bear.

"I love you, Iggy," he murmured sleepily.

The man smoothed his hair with his free hand and closed his eyes, feeling at peace at last. He tilted his chin down and kissed the boy on the forehead.

"I love you, too."

How could he feel any pain in his heart while they lay like this? America wasn't the only one who didn't want to be alone. _You'll always need me…right?_

The hair sticking up from his charge's head tickled his nose as he fell asleep.

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**A/N: First Hetalia fanfic, done for a kink meme request where little!America sees England crying and comforts him. Hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think.**


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